Dreams
by KathW
Summary: This takes place when AbbyLuka have been together about four years...


I haven't written any fan-fiction in about six years, so please be kind to me. This story is a Luby that takes place about five years from now. Spoilers implied for the current season. I owe no claim to any of them!

She'd been in bed tossing and turning for an hour, when the phone rang. It was Luka, calling from the hospital.

"Hey You. Still awake? It's after one in the morning."

"I can't sleep when you're not here. You know that."

"Listen. It's still snowing like crazy outside. It looks like I'm going to be here all night. Three of my attendings didn't show up for work."

"And yet you managed to get there."

"I have four wheel drive. I'm sorry, Babe. Give Sophie a kiss from me. I'll be home in the morning. I love you."

"Yeah. Yeah. Whatever. I'm sorry. I thought you could watch Sophie while I met Neela for lunch tomorrow. Instead, you'll be sleeping, and I'll have to take her with me. I was looking forward to an hour or two of uninterrupted adult conversation."

He sighed, obviously exasperated. "It's called marriage, Abby. It's all about compromise."

"I know I'm being a bitch. We'll work it out, okay" I've got to go. Sophie is crying in her sleep again."

She wondered if he thought about Danijela when she was acting like this. His first wife had no doubt be passive, and sweet, She never barked at him when he called home late at night to tell her he loved her.

She hung up the phone, and walked across the hall to her daughter's room. The little girl was crying softly, clutching her stuffed Terrier.

"Sweetie, are you okay? Did you have another bad dream?"

She managed to nod through her tears.

"It's okay. Mommy's here. It's okay."

She picked up Sophie, and carried her to the rocking chair, holding her in her arms until she calmed down.

The nightmares were occurring more and more often. She tried to tell herself this behavior was normal for a four year old child. That these frequent nightmare weren't a symptom of something darker.

"Do you want to sleep in Mommy's bed for a while?"

She nodded yes, and Abby picked her up, carried her to her bedroom.

"Where's Daddy?" Sophie asked as she curled up in the bed next to Abby.

"He's still at work, Sweetheart. He'll be home in the morning."

She smoothed Sophie's dark hair. She looked so much like her father. Sometimes Abby had a hard time finding any of herself in her daughter.

She recalled finding herself pregnant, and doubting that she would know how to love a child. Instead, she loved Sophie with such fierce intensity that it frightened her at. She hadn't known it was possible to love anyone or anything this much. She would literally have given her own life if it meant protecting Sophie.

They fell asleep together, mother and daughter. There were no more bad dreams for either one. For one night, at least.

When Abby woke up, Sophie had already gotten out of bed, and was downstairs in front of the television, happily engrossed in the Disney Channel. She apparently had not memory of what had transpired the night before.

"Hey Kiddo! Whacha watching?"

"Lizzie McQuire. Can we go out and play in the snow?" Sophie asked cheerily.

"Maybe later. Do you want some breakfast?"

"You don't cook, Mommy!" Sophie laughed.

"We've got Pop Tarts, or French Toast sticks. Take your pick. Come on. You need tap eat something, and get dressed. We're meeting Aunt Neela today."

Sophie clasped her hands together with joy. "Yeah!"

Sophie took her mother's hand, and they went to the kitchen. Abby arranged the French toast sticks on a plate, and stuck them in the microwave.

"Daddy makes me eggs when he makes breakfast," Sophie said.

"Well, guess what? Today you're having French toast sticks. Want some milk?"

She couldn't help thinking about Carol Hathaway for some reason. When her kids were Sophies age, Carol probably fed them freshly-squeezed orange juice, and homemade pancakes shaped like Mickey Mouse.

Abby could remember being as old as Sophie, and standing on a chair, and climbing on kitchen counters, searching the cupboards for whatever food she could scrounge.

She was not Martha Stewart, and never would be. Her daughter was safe, protected, and loved. If she occasionally had to eat French toast sticks for breakfast, so be it.

She still had the nagging feeling sometimes that she didn't deserve this life. That somehow she'd manage to sabotage it the way she had every good thing in her life, and that all of this would come crashing down.

She put the coffee on for Luka for when he came home, debating whether she wanted a cup for herself. She'd managed to combat most of her vices. No drinking. No smoking. No red meat. It wasn't a whole lot of fun being good sometimes.

"Mommy, your phone is ringing," Sophie told her.

She picked up her cell phone, hoping it would be Luka, It wasn't.

"What's up?" Are we still getting together today, or are you too good for your friends now that you're in the suburbs?"

"Neela! We'll, let's see. Sophie isn't dressed, I'm not dressed, or showered. The house looks like the Gulf coast after Katrina. We have laundry piled up since last April. But yes. We'll be there."

"I'm afraid it's just going to be coffee. I have to get back to the hospital this afternoon." Neela was now completing her surgical residency at County.

"Okay then. Starbucks at eleven-thirty sound good? I was hoping to talk to you without the c-h-i-l-d."

"I know what that spells," Sophie chimed in.

"Sophie, you're getting syrup all over the table. You're making a mess. I have tap go, Neela. I'll see you in a few hours."

"C-h-i-l-d. Child," Sophie said proudly.

Abby walked over, and kissed her daughter's cheek. Sophia Abigal Kovac you are so smart I just don't know what to with you."

"And I'm going to school next year. Right Mommy?"

"That's right, Sweetie.." She suddenly felt sad, thinking about how hard it would be, letting go of her daughter.,


End file.
